


Kill Karen Page - Part 2 - New Alliances

by KastleInTheSky



Series: Kill Karen Page [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 02, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-25 23:42:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7551709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KastleInTheSky/pseuds/KastleInTheSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karen reluctantly accepts new allies and Fisk calls in dangerous reinforcement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kill Karen Page - Part 2 - New Alliances

**Author's Note:**

> So much for weekly installments. Enjoy, everyone! Part 3 Coming soon!  
> -KITS

Thick-soled leather boots trudged and squeaked their way down a white brick hallway. A corrections officer turned up the winding corridors to the north end of the prison. The faint sound Vivaldi grew stronger as he approached the prison courtyard. He passed dozens and dozens of quiet, suspicious prisoners who leered over at him knowingly. Finally, he entered that final stretch of hallway and, as he approached the outer gate, he could observe the heavyset man resting on a centered bench with the stereo besides him as he performed his exercises.  
“Pardon me, Mr. Fisk?” the guard called.  
Fisk sat with his back to the guard, dumbbells in each hand as he completed numerous reps of bicep curls. Without stopping, he yelled to the guard,  
“Come in.”  
The guard tentatively unlatched the gate as Fisk finally paused his workout, setting the dumbbells down on the ground and turning towards him.  
“Officer Schmidt,” Fisk smiled. “What good news do you bring me from the outside?”  
“Not good news I’m afraid, sir,” Schmidt said hesitantly. “The word from Price and Klein was that the hit was… unsuccessful.”  
“Huh…” Frisk grunted. “Unsuccessful… in what sense?” His voice strained as he let out a giant stretch.  
“They, uh… they reported that some guy dressed in all black ambushed them. He beat the shit out of Price, she shot Klein in the leg, and they… both got away.”  
Fisk snickered, a devilish grin still on his face. Officer Schmidt shuffled in his place, refusing to make to much eye contact with Fisk.  
“They are… waiting for, uh… further instructions,” Schmidt continued.  
“Oh, please…” Fisk beckoned “Please, bring them to me so I may… instruct them further.”

Fisk smiled wide, looking directly in the face of Officer Schmidt, who still could not bring himself to look back at Fisk. Fisk stood from the bench, his hands folded behind his back as he slowly paced towards Schmidt. Schimdt’s breathing labored as tiny beads of sweat formed all over his face and neck. Fisk took pleasure in watching the guard begin to panic in front of him, and he inched himself closer and closer to the guard’s face. Schmidt gulped loudly as he finally looked up and directly into the face of Fisk, who was now only inches away from him. Coldly and quickly, Fisk whispered –  
“Now, please.”  
Schmidt gathered himself quickly, scrambling out of the courtyard and whimpering, “Y…yes sir.” He slammed the gate behind him and swung himself around and back down the hallway. Fisk sauntered toward the gate, running his hands along the warm metal bars.  
“Oh, and Officer Schmidt?” he called. Schmidt skidded to a halt, turning back to Fisk perplexed and fearful.  
“If you would do me a favor,” Fisk started. “Please let Lester in block B know that I’ve requested to speak to him as well.”  
“Absolutely, Mr. Fisk, right away!” Schmidt blurted. He wheeled around and bounded down the hallway and out of sight. Fisk smiled to himself as he turned and returned to his bench, humming along to the Vivaldi that still echoed throughout the courtyard.  
* * *  
Karen awoke groggy, her eyes swollen and crusty. She winced from the sunlight that was filling the room, and she looked around. The sun emphasized all the dust that had been floating around that she hadn’t noticed the night before. Frank was no longer there. He had made himself a makeshift cot next to the bathroom, which she saw was neatly made and packed away, and Karen took the bed. She turned again towards the small alarm clock on the floor next to her head. It read 10:21.

Karen flung herself up and off of the mattress, practically crawling across the kitchen floor to her purse. She grabbed it and without thinking dumped its contents all over the floor.  
“Shit, shit, shit,” she hissed, rummaging through her things looking for her cell phone. No luck. She scrambled up and over to her jacket hanging on a stray chair, where she found it in her pocket. She had just missed a call from Ellison, along with 2 others from earlier that morning and 18 texts. WHERE ARE YOU? DUE BY NOON, DO NOT FORGET. PICK UP YOUR PHONE!!  
“Ugh, SHIT.”  
Karen shoved the junk on the floor back inside her bag, gabbed her jacket, and threw it on. She paused for a second just as she was ready. She was being hunted a multi-millionaire crime boss who desperately wanted her dead. She ran over to Frank’s closet, fiddling with everything thrown inside. She picked up a dirty black baseball cap, twisting it around to examine it. She threw her hair up in a messy bun and put the cap low on her head. This would have to be her first line of defense, she thought. Good enough. With that, she ran for the door. She made it only a few feet before she looked up and was greeted with a giant yellow notebook-paper sign on the door. DO NOT LEAVE. WILL BE BACK SOON – F. Karen rolled her eyes, and left for the Bulletin office.  
The area outside the tenement building was eerily desolate for it being a weekday in broad daylight. Karen warily looked around, pulling up the collar of her jacket and pulling down Frank’s hat and she started down the block. The office was only 7 blocks away. Karen hurried, trying to take as many side streets and back alleys as she could to lie as low as possible. She could feel her phone vibrating over and over in her pocket, undoubtedly Ellison trying to track her down. She was almost there. She continuously tucked her head and checked her surroundings for anyone who looked to be following her, but so far nothing.

Karen finally reached the Bulletin building. Even inside, she kept her head low, only looking up to give a smile and wave to Elaine, the frumpy security guard in the main lobby. Her nerves and anxiety inclined her to run up the stairs all the way to the 12th floor. Karen pulled open the stairwell door when she arrived, immediately immersed in the bustle of the office with dozens of people running around, the sound of shaking paper everywhere. She hooked a quick left and headed directly for Ellison’s office. He was on the phone turned away from his door until Karen barged in panting heavily.  
“I am SO sorry,” she started. He looked towards her, still on the phone.  
“Look I’m gonna have to call you back, I’m about to fire someone….” Ellison explained to the other party. Karen rolled her eyes and turned to shut the office door.  
“Alrighty… goodbye,” Ellison finished. He hung up the phone and leaned back in his large chestnut leather chair, folding his arms.  
“Well if it isn’t my favorite former employee, Karen Page.”  
“Please, Mitch…” she answered exasperated, taking a seat in a chair opposite his desk. “Please let me explain.”  
“What is this, some kind of walk of shame?” Ellison asked, gesturing towards her garb. Karen looked down at herself, now noticing a hole in the torso of the t-shirt.  
Ellison bent in towards her.  
“And holy shit, Karen, what happened to your face?!” he exclaimed. Karen had all but forgotten about her swollen cheek, and the last thing she’d thought of that day was to check on it and see how it looked.  
“I got jumped. There are people after me,” Karen whispered, leaning herself onto the desk. “Wilson Fisk is sending men to kill me, Mitch. I got attacked by two of them, and then Frank Castle…”  
“Frank Castle…” Ellison sighed. He took his glasses of and began to rub his brow. “Y’know, Karen, if I didn’t know any better I would say you were obsessed with this guy. We were doing SO well…”Karen slammed both of her hands down on his desk.  
“Listen to me, Mitch! This is not about Frank, this is about me, and Wilson Fisk! He is coming after me! Last night he sent a thug with too much fucking cologne and guy with this big creepy grin after me in the middle of the street, and they tried to KILL me.”  
“Big creepy grin, huh…” Ellison asked as he gazed over at Karen, his expression softening.  
“Yes, a big creepy grin. He just smiled at me from a car while the other guy gave me this,” Karen explained pointing to her face.  
“Persistent questioner? A lot of ‘now, c’mon’ and ‘aww’” Ellison asked.  
“Uh… yeah…”  
“Thick red glasses?”  
“Yeah…” Karen was baffled. “How do you know that?”  
Ellison set his glasses down completely on the desk and stood up, hands on his hips.  
“Because he was here asking for you after you left night.”  
“Wh…” Karen fumbled with her words. “Here?!” Ellison grabbed one of her shoulders as the two headed towards the door.  
“Here, asking about your schedule, said he was a relative here to surprise you,” Ellison added.  
“You didn’t tell him anything, did you?!”  
“Of course I didn’t, Karen,” he assured. “Look I don’t know what’s going on, but… go back to wherever you were and stay there, I’ll worry about your article, and I can call the police…”  
“No, no police,” Karen insisted. “It’s too risky… especially with Frank.’  
“Oh that’s right, our murderous savior,” Ellison quipped. “Just… just go, I’ll deal with things here. He grabbed the doorknob and twisted it open. Karen started to step outside, but took a step back to give Ellison an unsuspecting hug.  
“Thank you, Mitch,” she whispered to him. “I’m so sorry.”  
“Don’t be sorry, Karen. Just… be safe, please.” Ellison waited there at his office door and watched Karen and she headed down the hallway and into the staircase.  
* * *  
Fisk sat in his cell, door wide open, his favorite classical music still filling the halls of the prison. He was reading The Prince quietly to himself on his cot. Another corrections officer approached the entrance to the cell.  
“Mr. Fisk,” he called. “Mr. Price and Mr. Klein are here to see you in the courtyard.”  
Fisk smirked, grabbing the leather bookmark on the night table beside him and placing it in the pages.  
“Yes…” said Fisk, climbing off the cot. “And, Lester?”  
“Finishing up meal and will be here shortly,” the guard answered.  
“Perfect.” Fisk and the guard sauntered down the hallways to the courtyard. The guard opened the metal gate and Fisk entered to find a very-worn-down Price and Klein sitting waiting for him. Klein staggered and hopped up first as Fisk entered.  
“Mr. Fisk!” Klein shouted. “We are very, VERY sorry. Price had her down in the alleyway. We almost had the shot! How could we have foreseen some asshole coming out of nowhere?!”  
“This… ‘asshole…”’ Fisk began, walking over to the bench. He took a seat where Klein had formerly been, next to a bludgeoned Price. Fisk turned to Price, Price’s gaze fixed intensely and angrily on the gravel floor beneath him.  
“What did he look like?” Fisk continued.  
“Didn’t get a good look…” Price spat. “Wore all black.”  
“Masked?” inquired Fisk.  
“Nope.”  
“Hmm…” Fisk hummed. “Armed?” Price lifted his head to expose his heavily swollen face, spots of dried blood covering most parts. His right eye was almost completely shut.  
“No that he let on,” he snapped.

Fisk sighed and rose from the bench. The sudden movement made Klein anxious and he flinched and began trembling as he paced back and forth.  
“We can fix this,” he babbled. “We can fix all of this; just let us go back there. We can track them down!”  
“Well with all due respect, Mr. Klein,” Fisked rasped, approached the increasingly twitchy Klein. “I don’t believe I will be needing your services for next time.”  
“Please,” Klein pleaded as he grabbed both Fisk’s arms. “You gotta give us one more chance!” Fisk quietly looked down at Klein’s hands and back to his face. Klein was smiling widely, but his eyes were wincing, almost tearing. Fisk looked over to Price next, still seated on the bench, staring now at Fisk with an expression of absolute distain.  
“Do you know…” Fisk began and he focused his attention back on Klein. “That I was intending on asking him to be the best man?”  
“…What?” Klein retorted.  
“Wesley. I was planning on having him up to the apartment, Vanessa and I showing him the ring, and asking him to be the best man. We wanted to fly out to Italy, Tuscany specifically. Wesley had never been there, he would’ve loved every part of it. Never much of a cosmopolitan, but always very curious, and also intently devoted to me no matter what I asked of him. Undoubtedly the best man I’ve ever known in my life. You would’ve done well to follow in his footsteps, Mr. Klein. Wesley’s willingness to get the job done never failed him. Now… officer!” Fisk called over to the guard. He pulled Klein’s hands from off of him one by one and took a few giant steps back. “Could you please see our guests… out?”  
“Mr. Fisk…” Klein gasped. “Mr. Fisk, pl….”  
The officer guarding the door had approached the group of men, his large revolver raised in both hands. He fired a shot first directly at Klein’s head, and Klein fell listlessly to the ground. He fired the next shot at Price, at first catching him in the shoulder and causing him to howl in pain.  
“You fucking bastard!” Price cried. The next shot hit him effortlessly in the temple, and he slunk off the bench and onto the ground.  
* * *  
Karen scurried through the lobby on the way out of the Bulletin office and forced the front door open obliviously. It was then that she felt a large cane whack the outside of her shin as she hurried out of the doorway. She instinctively halted and sighed aggressively.  
“What are you doing here?” she quipped.  
“Oh… Karen?!” Matt sounded surprised. “Karen, is that you?”  
“Do not pull that shit with me,” she whispered to him, nearing closer to him. “What are you doing here?”

Matt looked about the same as last she saw him. His outfit was styled with good intentions, but his shirt was horribly wrinkled and his tie too loose around his neck. His hair had cowlicks throughout. It’s as if he thought the cane wasn’t enough for people to get that he’s blind, Karen figured.  
“I’m… I’m sorry,” Matt stammered. “I… I came to check on you. To see how you’re doing. I… I figured you’d be at work. I… I just…”  
“Matt, I do NOT have time for this right now.”  
“You seem kind of… kind of on edge, Karen. Is everything alright?” His perception was a little suspicious.  
“Fine.” Karen asserted aggressively. “Goodbye.” Karen started to turn to leave, as Matt grabbed for her to stop.  
“Karen,” he pleaded. “Wait, listen to me Karen. I… I know about what happened last night.”  
Karen sneered, Matt’s hand still holding her. “You know about last night…” she mocked. “Of course you know about last night!”  
“Karen,” Matt sighed. “I know you’re in a lot of danger. I just want to help you. I… I have to know what Fisk is after you for…”  
“Matt,” Karen started. “I’m gonna put this to you honestly. You are almost the absolute last person I want to see in this moment, except for Fisk himself. Yes, he is after me. He sent to two guys last night to catch me on my way home and shoot me. Why, I… I don’t know. Now if you’ll excuse me…” Karen pulled her arm away from Matt beginning to stomp away.  
“Karen!” Matt called after her, not following. “Karen, I can help you!”  
Without breaking her stride, Karen yelled over her shoulder – “Stay away from me.”

She hurried away, turning back occasionally to assure Matt wasn’t following her, and he wasn’t. No one was, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she returned through the alleys and shadows from which she came back towards Frank’s apartment. Still in possession of the key Frank had given her, Karen unlocked the front door, looking behind her, stretching her neck out and around to ensure no one was watching her entering. The door slammed behind her, and she climbed the stairs and entered the apartment fairly relaxed and eager to be in a safe space.

Karen walked over to the mattress and she took off her jacket.  
“Where the hell have you been?”  
Karen let out a short cry of fear, instantly startled. She turned to see Frank sitting on the kitchen countertop, biting the inside of his lower lip again, his eyes boring into her furiously. Next to him sat too large deli cups of coffee.  
“Jesus, Frank….” Karen sighed annoyed. “What the hell is wrong with you?”  
“The hell is wrong with me?” Frank snorted. He held up the note he had left for Karen on the front door this morning. “Where the hell did you think you were goin’, huh?”  
“Frank, you didn’t expect to stay here cooped up like a prisoner while Fisk tears apart the city looking for me, did you?”  
“Yeah!” Frank countered. “I did! You go out there alone like that and you’re completely exposed! He could’ve had guys out there runnin’ after you that whole time! You don’t know who out there is… workin’ for him, creepin’ around to get every bit of recon they can on you!”  
“It’s apparently not that big of a secret; even Matt knows Fisk is after me!” Karen shouted.  
“I know he does,” Frank replied.  
“How?” Karen asked puzzled.  
“Because I told him.”  
“Are you FUCKING kidding me, Frank?” Karen had about had it with Frank’s overbearing protectiveness. Not only did she have to be in this with Frank, but now Matt too? Was she a child?  
“You are going to need every friendly set of eyes on you while Fisk is out there and every set of guns we got pointed at him! He can help us, Karen! Hell, didn’t he do him in once before?”

This was a new feeling Karen was experiencing - the feeling of hating it when Frank was actually right about something. She relaxed her jaw and shoulders, which had tensed up, ready to combat Frank’s argument but she couldn’t. Two of the cities best vigilantes were at her service, and though she was ready to defend herself no matter what the cost, he couldn’t deny she was in good hands.  
“He um…” Frank added. “He, uh… know why Fisk’s after you?”  
“Matt?” Karen replied.  
“Yeah…” Frank nodded. “…Matt.”  
Karen swallowed hard. “If he does, it’s not because I told him.” An honest response, Karen thought. She never mentioned this to Matt, but who knows what Daredevil could’ve found out on his own. She added, “It’s just you.”  
Frank nodded at her slowly. “Trust me, Karen. Our best bet is to keep you as covered as we can at all time. Now I’m not here to treat you…” Frank smirked. “Like a prisoner.” Karen smirked back.  
“But you’ll have to reasonable. You gotta work with me, okay?” Karen looked up and Frank looking back at her. His eyes had softened considerably.  
“Any questions?”  
Karen sighed deeply once more, shrugging her arms and shoulders.  
“Now what?”  
* * *  
Fisk looked on at the bleeding bodies of Klein and Price.  
“Please…” he requested back to the corrections officer. “Clean this up for me, I have another guest coming.” The guard hurriedly obeyed, calling quickly for backup as two officers picked up and began to move the bodies. From a distance, Officer Schmidt called out to Fisk.  
“Mr. Fisk!” Schmidt was followed by a tall, bald prisoner with pointed features. The prisoner’s hands were cuffed, but his ankles were uncharacteristically freed as he and Schmidt strolled down the hall.  
“Ah…” Fisk began. “Please, Officer Schmidt, unshackle our guest!” Schmidt grabbed the man’s wrists, unlocking the cuffs. The man rubbed both of his wrists as he approached Fisk confidently.  
“Mr. Lester it is, correct?” Fisk asked.  
“Just Lester,” replied the man in a deep smoking voice. He reached out his long hand to shake Fisk’s. Fisk excitedly obliged.  
“Yes, Lester. But… that isn’t what they call you on the outside I hear, is it?”  
“No, sir, “ Lester replied, still grabbing Fisk.  
“And tell me, what is that name, exactly?” Fisk beamed on at Lester. Lester beamed right back to him, the two men sharing a sinister smile.  
“Bullseye.”


End file.
